


Premieres

by AtoTheBean



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pinto, Pinto de Mayo 2017, alienated friends, but then not, picspiration, premieres, you know the one I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 07:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10826820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtoTheBean/pseuds/AtoTheBean
Summary: Chris was just trying to do a good deed.  Zach was just trying to get his attention.





	1. Wonder Woman

**Author's Note:**

> So, once again, I saw a picture (this time of Chris) and a story popped into my head, nearly fully formed. Luckily, it was in time for Pinto de Mayo... I'm hoping that it cured my writer's block for all my WIPs... My intrepid betas, Punk and Ducky, are both goddesses, especially Punk who betaed Chapter 2 at the 11th hour and generally did a ton of hand holding. Thank you darlings!!

 

 

Chris was incognito at the farmer’s market when the call came in, startling him enough that he dropped his phone on the tomatoes before fumbling to answer.

“Hello,” he answered as he wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder, motioning to the woman by the vegetable scale that he’d buy the tomatoes he’d probably just bruised.

“Mr. Pine? This is Jacob Donavan down at Providence Saint Joseph Foundation. You gave me your direct number during the meeting last week in case we had questions about the benefit.”

“Oh, right. Hi,” Chris said, handing some cash over for his vegetables and then retreating from the crowds. “What can I do for you? Is everything going okay with the promotion? Donations coming in?”

“Well, yes. It’s been quite successful so far, and we still have a few days before we close the entry process and select a winner. But I’m afraid we may have to disqualify one of the donors.”

“Why’s that?” Chris asked, wandering under the shade of coral trees. It was a lovely day in Los Angeles: mid-spring and 72 degrees with a soft breeze coming from the ocean. It was hard to think about work — even charity work — when he was carrying a bag of fresh vegetables and the whole park was in bloom and the air smelled of blossoms and handmade pastries.

“It seems we’re the subject of a prank. Someone bought up 250,000 entries, but the payment information comes from an enterprise holding company, and the name offered is clearly fake. I’m not sure that the intentions of this fan are what we want to promote, despite the generous donation. It could be some sort of stalker.”

That was strange. “Did the money come through?”

“Yes,” came the reply. “But we can’t trace it to a person. It was paid via PayPal through one of those companies with a meaningless name… what was it again? Antecedent Liminality. I’ve tried googling it and there are no records of it doing anything. It’s just a shell. So it’s a bit suspicious.”

“Wait, _Liminality?_ That’s the fake name?”

“No, that’s the payment information we were able to track through PayPal. The name entered in the the drawing was Nacho Jay Thornquiz.”

Chris blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“No. Shall I alert someone—”

“Ah, no. Don’t disqualify them. It’s — I don’t think it’s a prank. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s not a prank, and I’m not in danger. Give me a day or two to sort this out. I need to make a call, and I can’t do it here.”

“Are you sure? We’re committed to vetting any contestants for your safety, and this raised several red flags.”

Chris scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But the contest doesn’t end for a few days. Let me check on something. I’ll let you know if we need to do anything before the drawing. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”

“Of course, Mr. Pine,” Donavon said, apparently recognizing the dismissal. “We appreciate you participating in the charity drive. Have a good weekend.”

“You too.” Chris hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket, suddenly chilled despite the sunshine. This made _no_ sense. And yet…and yet it was the only real possibility. Chris looked down at his bag, trying to remember what else he’d planned to do this morning and quickly deciding that whatever it was, it could wait. He headed to the car and home.

Hours later, after he’d gorged himself on fresh caprese and opened a bottle of wine, he was sprawled out on one of the lawn chairs by his pool, sipping a glass of Albarino and scrolling through his last few months of texts with Zach. There had been a flurry of activity back in January, when Zach was cold and New York’s skies were grey and Zach’s bed was empty because he and Miles had been fighting again. Chris had tried to be supportive without commenting too much on the relationship, because he’d made _that_ mistake before and then regretted it when Zach and Miles had gotten back together. Besides, he was hardly in a position to talk. He might not understand Zach’s relationship, but since he couldn’t maintain one himself, casting stones was ridiculously unwise, and smacked of self interest. Chris took another sip of wine and kept scrolling through the phone. Sure enough, a few weeks later, Miles had been back. But then he’d been gone again by the end of February. After that, the texts had died off for a while; just occasional pictures or observations Zach shared about his world. A few of those Chris hadn’t even responded to, at least not directly. He might have shared his own picture a few days later, but he was dismayed to see that there were several cases when Zach had reached out and Chris hadn’t reached back. On the other hand, he could remember several hours-long conversations during that period… so maybe he wasn’t a _horrible_ friend. And he’d offered to fly back to New York when he’d realized Zach was going to have to put Noah down, but Zach had insisted he’d rather be alone.

And that’s why this didn't make sense. Chris got up and refilled his wine glass, idly watching the hummingbirds fight over red honeysuckle flowers that grew along the low fence as he returned to the patio. Zach hadn’t exactly been happy the last few times they’d spoken, but he’d seemed content. Now Chris wondered if he’d missed some sign. If it hadn’t been contentment, but resignation.

Chris sighed and sat back down by the pool. This was ridiculous. He’d done enough navel-gazing over Zach to last a lifetime, and it wasn’t going to help now. He picked up the phone and dialed Zach’s number.

“Chris? What’s up, my friend?”

Chris resisted answering, ‘Not much, Nacho, how ‘bout you?’ Just barely.

“Oh, you know… another shitty day in paradise. I was at the farmers’ market this morning and everything’s in bloom and I realized we hadn't really talked for a while.” That was true, if incomplete.

“I was at the market, too, though I imagine your tomatoes are still better than mine. The tulips are up in the park _finally_. And it’s warm in the middle of the day, at least. The dogs loved it. They kept snapping at the bees, which… you know, we’ve talked about how that’s a bad idea, but they don’t listen very well.”

Chris snorted. “I can’t imagine where they get their stubbornness from…”

Zach just hummed, making Chris huff a laugh. “How are you holding up without Noah?"

Zach sighed. “I miss him. I keep remembering how he always wanted to chase the squirrels in the spring. I keep expecting him to come lay at my feet when I finally sit down in the living room. But it’s hard to be sad when Skunk’s around. And it was time. I loved him so much. I didn’t want him to suffer.”

“Yeah.” Chris looked at Wednesday, sleeping in the sun. “It’s hard to believe my pup will ever be that old, but I’m sure the time flies. I mean, I remember how young Noah was when we first met… and that feels like yesterday but also, just forever ago. It’s amazing how it’s flown by.”

“Thinking of putting me down?”

“No, idiot.” Chris looked around the yard, thinking of all the times he and Zach had hung out there over the years. Before these conversations required a phone. Or had gotten so awkward. “It just sneaks up on you, you know?”

Zach was quiet for a moment before answering, “It truly does.”

Chris floundered around for a topic — other than _the_ topic — and settled on the weather, of all the stupid, awkward things.

“So, it’s just warm during the middle of the day, huh? Maybe you need a break. Los Angeles is perfect right now: clear and warm, but not hot yet. Low seventies, dipping into the sixties at night. The pool is clean and ready to go. Wednesday’s ready for doggie guests.” Chris waited, wondering if Zach would take the opening.

“Hmmm. Sounds great. Next time I have an excuse to come, I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

An excuse. God, he hated that they had gotten to that point. When Zach lived in the neighborhood, they’d just show up on each other’s doorsteps with a bottle of wine and the evening would somehow just fly by. Even when Zach had first moved out to New York, they’d visited each other to see plays or film festivals together. But now they apparently needed excuses to see each other? When had they let it get like that? “An excuse? You mean, like the premiere for _Wonder Woman_?”

It was out before he could think better of it, and the silence on the other end showed he’d hit his mark.

“Fuck,” Zach said softly enough that Chris wasn’t sure he was meant to hear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out, Zach? You used an anagram of your name, for god’s sake. We haven’t done that for years, but it’s not like I was ever going to forget that ‘nacho’ and ‘quiz’ made frequent appearances in those things. And that company you used to pay for your ridiculous number of entries was basically ‘before the door’ in literary criticism language. And I was a Lit major.”

“No, I knew you’d see it immediately, I wanted you to know. I just didn’t think it would happen yet. Or ever, if I didn’t win.”

“They thought you were a stalker. I think they were going to call the police if I made a fuss.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry. Wait, are you _angry_?”

“No!” he answered, admittedly louder than necessary. “No,” he tried again, willing himself to be calm. “I just don’t understand. I mean, if you wanted to come to the L.A. premiere of _Wonder Woman_ — or any of the premieres, really — all you had to do was ask. If you wanted to come here and hang out by the pool for a week, all you had to do was ask. Or accept an invitation. You don’t need to enter a contest to hang out with me; you’re Zach! You just… you just come. Why would you think that was necessary? It’s not even your charity.”

Zach sighed. “No, but it’s still a good cause.”

“So not the point, Zach. Come on. What’s going on? You’ve been holding me at arm’s length for ages and now this?”

“I haven’t. At least I haven’t meant to.”

“I offered my house as a retreat after Miles left the last time; I offered to come out to New York when you had to put Noah down—”

“I know, and I wasn’t ready then.”

“Ready for what? We’re friends. I was trying to be supportive. And now you’re entering a contest to spend time with me like we’re strangers. Like we don’t have over a decade of history?”

“Shit, you’re hurt.”

“I’m not _hurt_ ,” he insisted, in a voice that was definitely bordering on pouty. He scrubbed his face.

“You are. And that wasn’t… I mean, I see what you’re saying, but that wasn’t my intention. I just saw the promotion — you holding up that sign surrounded by Los Angeles greenery — and I just wanted to be there with you. I thought it would be funny, like when we used to bump into each other at parties because we lived in the same neighborhood, and we’d ignore everyone else and just talk all night. I thought you’d see that name and realize you were in on the joke. I wanted to hang out with you, but not because I was hurting or needed support. Just because I wanted to hang out with you. But I knew if I’d called and asked to come out, you would have assumed I was in some kind of crisis because of Noah or Miles or something. You would have tried to clear your schedule, and I would have felt guilty and pressured to make the most of it. I just didn’t want all that pressure on us. I just wanted a do over.”

Chris’ ire completely deflated, because Zach was making sense. It was true: he _would_ have dropped everything, and it would have felt fraught and awkward. Maybe. Probably. And he missed those times, too, god did he miss them! He still couldn’t bring himself to turn down Zach’s old street on his morning run because of the hollow feeling in his stomach when he saw the house with the wrong color paint and the wrong car parked outside. Chris would have assumed Zach needed friendly support whether Zach said so or not. Because with everything that had happened recently, it would make sense that he did. But Zach sounded fine. Better than fine.

“You’re really okay? This wasn’t some...I don’t know... cry for attention or help that only I would get? Because honestly, Zach, I’ve been trying to figure out what you need all morning.”

“For attention, maybe, but not for help. I’m feeling remarkably clear-headed at the moment. I don’t need anything.”

“But then why— Wait. What did you mean by ‘a do over’?”

Zach’s pause was on the long side, but Chris was suddenly feeling _very_ patient.

“Okay, do you remember when I first told you I was moving to New York? The, uh, conversation we had?”

Fuck. They _never_ talked about this. Chris was almost convinced he’d _dreamt_ telling Zach he’d developed feelings for him — _romantic_ feelings — before watching him pack up and move east and ultimately sell his house in Silver Lake. And Chris knew that Zach hadn’t done that just to run away from him. There had been the play, and Zach’s frustration with L.A.’s conservatism and intolerance in the wake of his coming out. And Chris had just started acknowledging his own sexuality and Zach — quite rightly — did not want to risk their friendship by being Chris’ experiment. But it had still felt a bit like abandonment.

“Yeah,” Chris answered cautiously, wary of the hope flickering in the back of his mind.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. And I don’t think I was wrong—”

Well, _fuck._

“I mean, at the time, I think we both had a lot of growing up to do and a lot of personal issues to work through,” Zach continued hurriedly. “Probably me more than you, though I would have denied it at the time. But I’ve been thinking about that moment. How moving changed my life. And a lot of it was good, but some of it wasn’t.

“And I know you’re probably thinking I’m on the rebound from Miles and out of my head, but I’m not. That was coming for so long, it was a relief. I feel good. I’m not lonely. I just miss _you_. The more I think about it, the more I realize that you’re one of the sanest people I know, and that _I_ feel sanest and at my best when our lives are connected. So, I want them more connected, one way or another. But we’re so far away from each other now, it’s hard to make that happen in any way that doesn’t feel forced.

“And I have no idea if you’d even be interested at this point. I know you’ve dated some men mixed in with the women over the last few years, and when we’ve talked about it… well, it didn’t seem like those relationships failing discouraged your attraction to men in general. But that doesn’t mean you’d be interested in me specifically, anymore. Or want any part of my crazy. Because let’s face it; I’m not easy. Though I think I’m getting better. And it probably feels like it’s coming out of nowhere, but I couldn’t broach it too close to breaking up with Miles or you wouldn’t have trusted it, and I couldn’t do it when Noah was sick, and I don’t know how to get us some time when we can just be together so I can see if the chemistry is even still there between us, or if I just need to repair our friendship, or — I don’t know — we’ve talked so little over the last month you might be dating someone and I don’t want to mess anything up for you. And I saw that photo and—”

 _Jesus_. “Zach, breathe for a second. You’re going to pass out from lack of oxygen before I can even get a word in.”

Silence greeted him, and he had the distinct impression that the Jeopardy theme should be playing. He downed the rest of his wine in one go and set the glass down on the patio, straddling the lounge chair as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair.

Where to even begin?

“I’m not dating anyone seriously right now,” he started with. Because if he were, this little revelation would be moot. Probably. For now, anyway.

“Oh. Um, okay. That’s good to know.”

Chris smiled at how awkward and shy Zach suddenly seemed. He wondered if Zach regretted laying all his cards on the table like that. Had he even done it on purpose, or could he just not stop talking once he’d gotten started? Chris was definitely overwhelmed by everything he’d heard. Part of him was elated. It was exactly what he’d hoped to hear all those years ago. But a lot had happened since then.

“Zach,” he said finally, “I really don’t think your name should be in that contest.”

“Oh.” Zach’s voice was thick with disappointment. “I understand. It was sort of stupid. I should have—”

“Zach,” he interrupted, and thankfully Zach went silent again. Chris took a deep breath. “It wasn’t stupid. Now that I know what you were thinking, it might be one of the most romantic things anyone’s ever done for me. But I still think it’d be better if we didn’t start… whatever we might be starting… by showing up on a red carpet together. If you were anyone else, I would be game, but we _do_ have a decade-long history, and your friends have made videos joking that we’ve been dating for _years_. They’ve become memes, for god’s sake. Can you imagine the speculation if we showed up on a red carpet together? And it’s not that I’m ashamed of you or of being bi, but I like my private life to be private, especially when we’re sorting out what we are to each other.” And Zach wasn’t like that. He was so out and proud and willing to let the world watch his mistakes, even when their reactions broke his heart. Just this, Chris’ need for privacy, could be a deal breaker. But Chris was long past trying to deny who he was to please others, and that included his personality as well as his sexuality.

“Okay. That’s… that’s completely reasonable. And I know you well enough to know how private you are. I should have considered that.”

“It’s fine. I can get them to cancel your donation.”

“Don’t. It’s still a good cause. Just pull my name from the drawing. And then next time I’m promoting a charity, it’ll be your turn to donate.”

Chris couldn’t help it. “Sure thing, Nacho, just name the cause.”

Zach laughed fully for the first time the whole conversation. “Shit, I’m _not_ going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance.”

“Hey, at least my anagrams don’t involve the words _lecheries_ or _pestilence_ or _erectile whips._ ”

“True,” Chris laughed, “but I showed enough forbearance not to enter any contests with those names.”

Zach snorted. “I thought you said it was romantic.”

“Yeah, no. Not the _nacho_ part.”

“Fine. I’m not often accused of being romantic, anyway. Not surprising I would mess it up.”

Chris’ cheeks were starting to hurt from grinning. God, he had to get a grip. There were still serious things they needed to discuss before even contemplating trying this, but the pull of Zach was so strong — always had been — that it was easy to get carried away. Chris could suddenly see exactly how Zach had dropped $50k and a false name for the chance to try. Chris had spent so many years forcing himself not to think about kissing Zach… now, just knowing that Zach was considering this, it was suddenly all he could think of. And that was getting _way_ ahead of things.

“Zach, you know, if we try this, I can’t… I know you’ve had open relationships, but I wouldn’t want that.”

“I know.” The smile was still in Zach’s voice, but it was now soft and knowing. “I do know you that well. We’ve talked enough about what has and hasn’t worked in our various relationships. The truth is, my open relationships didn’t end up making me happy. If we decide to do this, it would just be us. Well, and the dogs, of course.”

“Of course. Wednesday gets full vetting privileges, just so you’re aware.”

“Hmmm. I’ll have to bring the really good treats.”

Chris huffed a laugh. “The way to her heart is definitely through her stomach.”

“Not surprising. She is a Pine, after all.”

“Yes, she is. Dribbles all over herself, too.”

“Comes by that naturally.”

“Yeah.” Chris stretched out again, laying back in the lounge chair. The sun was lower, and he was half in shade. He suddenly wished Zach was there _now_ , that they could go inside and make some dinner and open some more wine and… “I’ve really missed you.”

“Chris.” Zach almost sighed his name, and it did things to Chris that shouldn’t really be possible from thousands of miles away. “I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long—”

“Don’t. Please. You were right. We both needed this time to sort things out. You don’t owe me any apologies. But now that I know what you’re thinking, I’m sort of impatient to have you thinking it closer to me. I have this premiere in a month, and I’m sure I could get you into the after party with me. And I’ll be in New York for that premiere a few days later, but I’m really hoping we can see each other before then. Do you want me to come to you?”

“Actually, I need to be in L.A. for a film meeting in two weeks. I could come out early... if you wanted.”

“Would you bring the dogs?”

“Depends on how long I’d be there. I could, or I could leave them with a friend for a few days.”

Chris closed his eyes, feeling himself hanging in the balance between being cautious and being bold. There were still so many ways this could go wrong, but then, wasn’t that true with anything? And caution hadn’t served him well in his love life to date.

“Zach, I think you should bring the dogs.”

He could practically hear Zach’s smile. “Yeah. I could do that.”


	2. Wrinkle in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later...

“Are you ready? The limo’s coming in about three minutes.”

“Other than the fact that Skunk keeps shedding on my slacks,” Chris said. “I’m all set.”

Zach closed all three dogs into the back bedroom and reappeared brandishing the pet hair remover. Chris tried to think wholesome thoughts as Zach knelt in front of him, dark hair back to its long, floppy glory, perfect for running fingers through, gripping —

He looked at the ceiling as he felt the tape roller run up and down his calves, and willed Zach not to run it up his thigh. They really couldn’t be late. As Zach stood, their eyes met, and it was clear from his expression he knew _exactly_ what he’d been doing.

“Asshole.”

“You love it,” Zach said with a smirk.

“I love _you_ ,” Chris corrected. “It’s not the same.”

Zach put the lint remover on the table and grabbed a tote with their waters for the car. Leaning in, he whispered into Chris’ ear, “Isn’t it?” just as the buzzer for the gate went off. Chris stifled the shiver, shaking his head ruefully as he stepped back and adjusted himself subtly. He checked for his wallet as Zach entered the codes to open the gate and set the alarm.

“Ready?”

They walked down the driveway to meet the limo by the road, where the driver greeted them and ushered them into the back. It wasn’t huge, but they could stretch out a bit, and there was a place to hang their jackets so they didn’t get crushed before the event. There was also a bar that looked nicely stocked. Chris leaned back and tried to get comfortable while Zach arranged their things and poured himself a finger or two of whiskey. Zach raised the glass and an eyebrow, silently offering to pour him some, but Chris shook his head. He wanted to keep his wits about him. There’d be plenty of champagne at the after party.

Once they were underway and getting onto the freeway, the driver gave them their estimated arrival time, and Zach thanked him as he raised the privacy barrier. Chris looked with dismay at the gridlock across all five lanes. He bit at his lip, startling as Zach took his hand and laced their fingers together.

“You’re nervous,” Zach said, squeezing his hand.

“A bit,” Chris admitted, looking down at their entwined hands and then up at Zach’s concerned face. It had been just over a year since the _Wonder Woman_ premiere. Zach’s 2-week visit with his dogs had given them both time to get acquainted — and get a few things off their chests — and by the premiere after party, it was clear they were in a relationship, though still one they kept to themselves. Three months of flying back and forth had convinced Zach that while he loved New York, there were advantages to being in L.A., regular, incredible sex with someone he truly cared about being chief among them. It had been ten months since the press had noticed they were spending a lot of time together, eight months since Zach had moved in with Chris, confirming all their suspicions, four months since Chris stopped glaring at paparazzi when they photographed them on their morning run or evenings out. It had been two weeks since Chris started carrying a ring in his jacket pocket everywhere he went, just in case... But oddly enough, this was their first red carpet event since becoming official, and it was for a film Chris was insecure about. He was glad Zach would be with him.

“ _Wrinkle_ is such a beloved book — _I_ loved it growing up. I hope the movie lives up to it. I mean, the cast is great, and I feel like we put in good performances, but you know as well as I do, that it isn’t enough. The score, the editing, the pacing… those can all make or break a film even if the performances are good. I haven’t really seen the entire finished product yet, and I just hope it does the book justice.”

“It’s kind of strange that this is the first adaptation. It seems overdue.”

“Which means more pressure,” Chris agreed.

“Hmmm. But it also means there’s a hunger for it. I don’t think you have to worry. Your whole team has approached the project very respectfully.” Zach rubbed Chris’ fingers with his thumb. It was soothing. “You sure that’s all you’re worried about,” Zach asked quietly, studying their entwined fingers. “You’re not concerned about question on the carpet?” he asked, hesitantly.

“About what? About _us_?”

Zach shrugged.

“No, Zach,” he assured, raising their joined hands and kissing Zach’s ring finger. “I’m not worried about that at all. I’m proud to have you with me.”

Zach looked up and grinned so hard his nose wrinkled. It was one of Chris favorite smiles.

“Well, in that case,” Zach said, “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Plus, that character was a good look for you. So hot with all that grey in your beard. Seriously. Like a hot dad. A hot, scifi, kidnapped dad.”

Chris snorted. “You like the grey?”

“You know I do,” Zach said leaning in to kiss him. He tasted like whiskey and a warm promise. Zach leaned across him to set the glass down, and then ran his hands along Chris’ legs to rest them on his thighs.

“You know the best thing about L.A. traffic?” Zach’s breath tickled against the shell of his ear.

“You hate L.A. traffic.” His response was breathier than he’d intended. He cleared his throat.

“I hate _driving_ in L.A. traffic. But when you're in a limo,” Zach kissed him, pushed his knees apart and shifted forward, “with tinted windows, a privacy barrier, and a trip that will take five times as long as it ought to, well, the possibilities are intriguing.”

“Oh, are they?” Chris asked, allowing Zach to pull him toward the edge of the seat. His breath hitched as Zach knelt on the carpeted floor between his knees, reminding him of how quickly Zach had knelt in the hallway. His cock twitched. “Were you planning this?” he asked, gasping as Zach moved his hands up Chris legs and looked up from under impossibly thick lashes. God, he was fucking beautiful.

“Possibly,” Zach admitted, tracing the edge of Chris’ growing erection through his pants. And Chris should really tell Zach that he was going to rumple his slacks or get come on them, but as he watched Zach eyeing his bulge, he knew he was really _not_ going to mention any of that. “There’s a chance I rushed you through your shower so you wouldn’t have a chance to jerk off, and then wandered around undressed while you shaved so I could admire the hard on it gave you, and then sent Skunk in to furball you so I could kneel in front of you in the hall—”

“And give me wicked thoughts,” Chris finished, brushing a thumb against Zach’s cheek.

Zach turned his head and sucked Chris’ thumb into his mouth, making him groan. He nibbled at the pad before whispering, “You’re wicked all on your own. You don’t need inspiration from me for that.” He pressed the palm of his hand against the base of Chris’ erection. “It’s possible I did all that just so I’d have the pleasure of kneeling in a limo and sucking you off as the city goes by.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Chris said as he spread his legs further, sinking into the seat.

“Nope. Try again.” Zach undid Chris’ belt and opened his fly, exposing his hard cock to the cool air of the limo. Fuck, the anticipation was amazing. Manipulative, genus boyfriend...

“Zach,” he whispered.

“Better.” Zach leaned forward, maintaining eye contact through his lashes as he sucked the tip of Chris’ cock into his mouth.

 _Fuck_.

Zach’s mouth was fucking _exquisite._ Sometimes it was sweet and exquisite, sometimes it was filthy and exquisite, and sometimes, like now, Chris realized that Zach had every intention of running the gamut and being very, _very_ thorough. They had nearly an hour. Zach seemed to be in no hurry, and Chris… Chris was happy to be at his mercy. Zach sucked softly as his tongue explored in achingly familiar ways. Chris sank back into his seat, closed his eyes, and gave himself over to the sensations: the slow, teasing velvety warmth that had him breathing deeply, stomach clenching with the building heat and desire, only to have Zach soften his touch and ease Chris into a blissful respite before sucking harder again, taking him deeper, pulling groans and involuntary thrusts from him. If they were home, Chris would be spreading his legs, impatient for Zach to tease lower. Impatient for things to move along and Zach to pin him to the mattress and open him up and fuck him. But in the back of this limo, on their way to camera flashes and smiles and waves to the fans, that wasn’t possible. Zach slid his mouth almost all the way off Chris, and then back down almost to the base, excruciatingly slowly. And it didn’t feel frustrating, it felt _luxurious_. Chris’ arm moved without his permission, pinky ring clinking against a glass. Chris opened his eyes and grasped the the glass, raising it to sip the smooth, warm liquid as he watched Zach’s mouth slide slowly up and down his shaft. It was _fucking_ glorious and decadent and _yes, fuck, right there_. Zach hummed around his cock, watching Chris swallow the whiskey and then closing his eyes to take Chris deep again.

Over and over, Zach pulled him close to an edge that had him writhing and stifling thrusts, only to ease him back, satisfying Chris’ need for sensuality without actually allowing it to resolve in a climax. Each time it was harder to allow himself to be brought back from the edge, to resist setting the pace himself rather than letting Zach dictate the terms of this… this delicious ride he was taking Chris on. Chris clenched his free hand into a fist to keep it from taking control. He threw back the rest of the whiskey and set the glass down, groaning loudly as Zach took him deep again. He wondered idly how soundproof the privacy barrier was, and found he really didn’t care. _Fuck_ , he was close. He was so close, and Zach was brutal in his knowledge of Chris' pleasure, sucking him just shy of the speed and intensity he’d need to come.

Chris clenched both hands against the leather of the seat and whimpered with need. As if that were the cue, Zach reached for Chris’ hand and placed it on the back of his head.

“Oh fuck, are you sure?”

Zach hummed his approval around Chris’ cock, and Chris rolled his hips, touching the back of Zach’s throat before pulling back. Zach’s eyes met his, watering slightly but otherwise showing no signs of distress, and Chris rolled his hips again. _Fuck_ , that was good. That was _perfect_. He combed the fingers of his free hand through Zach’s bangs, pushing them from his face and grasping them as he rolled his hips again. Zach closed his eyes and lifted his chin, allowing Chris’ cock to slip in a bit deeper.

“Christ, you’re fucking perfect,” Chris whispered, methodically rolling his hips, again and again, each time a bit faster and deeper, watching his cock disappear into Zach’s open mouth over and over and knowing this time, _this time_ he was going to come. It was a heady feeling after ceding control for so long. He was already almost there. He could feel it building, and this time, there’d be no pulling back from the precipice. One more thrust and his balls tightened and muscles clenched and he cried out as release finally came. He was vaguely aware of Zach’s hands firm on his hips, pressing him into the seat so Zach could pull back slightly and swallow and suck, intensifying the pressure on his cock almost to the point of pain. As Chris’ finally sank back into the seat again, Zach gentled his mouth and sucked him through the aftershocks, finally pulling off when Chris was completely spent, legs splayed and arms falling heavily and uselessly to his sides.

Zach tucked him back into his pants, zipped him up, and then rested his chin on Chris’ knee, looking _quite_ smug. Chris couldn’t help a weak laugh.

“Give me a few minutes,” he said, arm flopping as he tried to gesticulate, “and I’ll reciprocate.” Though to be honest Chris wasn’t sure when his coordination would be up for the task.

“Not necessary,” Zach assured him, and Chris raised an eyebrow, making Zach smile. “For one thing, I _did_ jerk off in the shower, so I’m not even sure I could get off again so soon. Secondly, you’ll rumple your pants, and while no one will be looking closely at mine, ruining your crease would be unfortunate. And thirdly, I think we’re almost there. Anyway, I’m saving myself.”

“Oh, for anyone I know?”

Zach smirked and leaned up to kiss Chris. “Well, he’s talented, and amazingly sweet and generous. And hot. _Really hot_.”

“I’m getting jealous.”

Zach laughed and kissed him deeply. Chris could taste himself on Zach’s tongue, and _fuck_ , that was hot.

“I’m saving myself for later. When we’re not rushed to get somewhere. I’m going to fuck you _so well_ tonight.” Zach whispered the promise against Chris’ lips.

“Hmmm. Are you going to wait until we get home, or find some alcove at the after party?”

“Don’t tempt me. Home, I think. Though this limo is pretty roomy…”

Chris huffed a laugh as the limo turned, and they looked outside to see they were almost to the theater. Zach sat up on the seat and brushed some lint off his knees while Chris fastened his pants and belt. Zach handed him his jacket and they both straightened up, checking each other’s ties and cuffs. Chris started to fix Zach’s hair and realized that it looked fine. Strategically tousled in a hot sort of way.

The limo pulled into the line of cars letting people out at the red carpet. It would be a slow few minutes as they crawled up to the front, and already the crowds were thick and the cameras flashing. Chris’ nerves returned, but the edge was gone. He felt excited. He looked back at Zach, who was watching him intently, ready to follow his lead, Chris realized.

“You ready to do this?” Chris asked, nodding at the crowd.

“Whenever you are,” Zach said.

The limo pulled up to the front spot and stopped. Chris waited until the door opened and he knew a camera was on him before he leaned back and kissed Zach.

“Come on, Nacho, let’s go greet the fans.”

“Oh my god, I am _never_ going to live that down,” he laughed as Chris exited the car and turned back to help him out.

They walked up the red carpet hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my head canons for this story is that Chris and Zach used to use anagrams of their names when they checked into hotels, made reservations at restaurants, etc. They're both word nerds, and I can just see them sitting in airport terminals giggling as they make up future fake names. And boy do they both have a plethora of ridiculous options.  
> Zach: https://new.wordsmith.org/anagram/anagram.cgi?anagram=Zachary+John+Quinto&t=500&a=n  
> Chris: https://new.wordsmith.org/anagram/anagram.cgi?anagram=Christopher+Whitelaw+Pine&t=500&a=n


End file.
